#softersteve

Inspired by @softersteve ’s Wintertime Sickfic Prompts. 

Summary: Steve and Bucky are sent to the Mount Denali region in Alaska shortly after New Year’s. It was supposed to be a simple overnight mission to check out an old HYDRA base. The weather has other plans.

Disclaimer 1:  I do not own anything in the MCU.

Disclaimer 2: Steve deals with his trauma related to the plane crash and freezing by facing it head on. I am not an expert in dealing with trauma, so I do not recommend this method for everyone. 

****

One fateful night in late January, Steve and Bucky were assigned a mission near Mount Denali in Alaska. It was a simple mission to scan the area to make sure the previous HYDRA base was still inactive. The last few years had shown no signs of activity in the area. SHIELD had plans to convert it into one of their own bases. The rustic cabin above the underground storage was a cozy place for long distance travelers to rest while the underground storage could hold any supplies they needed to restock. Everyone else was examining their own inactive HYDRA bases around the world. Alaska was the only mission that required two people because it was just the one base. And so, Steve and Bucky were selected. Director Fury proposed the idea as a little romantic getaway for the two of them.

Steve’s flight anxiety had improved significantly and he wanted to conquer the last piece of his trauma: flying over ice. Directory Fury and the other Avengers assured Steve that he had nothing to prove, but the Captain was determined to overcome his fears. After all, he never knew when he might have to take the controls over a snowy environment. It was better for him to test this with a recon mission rather than a dangerous escape. Besides, Bucky would be there to help him through the memories and to take over the controls if it became too much.

Both super soldiers were a little congested and had sore throats on the day they were to depart, but they didn’t pay it much mind. They had fought with worse symptoms before. Neither Steve or Bucky wanted to make the other worry over something that was likely just a small head cold. 

The mission began without a hitch. Steve felt comfortable controlling the Quinjet for most of the journey. He let his boyfriend take over a few times when Bucky became restless. The mountain was scheduled to have a bit of snowfall overnight, and the two super soldiers landed just in time to avoid getting caught in it. They were dusted with a light snowfall as they entered the cabin. 

The cabin was rather small. It was one room with a bathroom wedged into the corner. It had a huge clawfoot tub inside that took up most of the space. The rest of the cabin was divided into a small kitchen with a gas stove, sink, and small dining table, a bed with a stiff mattress, and a sofa in front of the fireplace. 

The underground base was about the size of a small convenience store. Despite being fairly certain it was empty, they carefully inspected every room and every nook or cranny they found just to be safe. It was completely empty except for some dust that made their congestion even worse. There was evidence something had been stored there, mostly discoloration of the walls and floor.

Steve got a nasty whiff of dust when he and Bucky returned upstairs. “*snff…snffsnff…  hih’IHSHuugh! hiph’TSCH! hihiTSHSHuughh! Ngh… snff…,*” Steve wiped the back of his glove under his nose. 

“You alright, Stevie?” Bucky asked.

“Y-Yeah, Bun. Just got blasted by dust. *snff,*” Steve answered.

Bucky stared at him with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised. “You sure? You know you only sneeze in threes when you’re sick or about to be sick,” he chided. Just as Steve was struggling to come up with a good excuse, Bucky started sneezing. 

“See? Told’ja it was dust. Unless… you’re coming down with something?” Steve teased. 

“I-I’mb *hih…snff* I’m fi-*ihTSHCHH!* fide, Steeb. *huhpphTSHSH!*” Bucky argued. He sniffed, paused to make sure his sneezing fit was over, then said “we should ged out of here before dhe snow geds worse.”

The super soldiers braced themselves for the blast of cold air that would assault them the second they opened the door. It was much colder than they expected: cold enough that Steve shivered from head to toe and Bucky's teeth chattered noisily. They huddled together as they stared out at the snowy landscape. The snow had turned to white out conditions while they were inside with at least another inch and a half of snow on the ground. 

"Scratch that. *sdff…* Led's just g-g-grab our stuff ad c-camp here for dhe nnnight," Bucky stuttered.

"*sn-snff* thingk we could do dhis in one tridp?" Steve sniffled with a shudder.

Bucky nodded. He was just as eager to get back inside where they could warm up. He pulled his scarf over his nose and ears so only his eyes peeked over the top. He and Steve huddled together as they trudged through the snow. Steve was on Bucky's right side and taking the brunt of the winds. But the frigid mountain cooled Bucky's arm so much he worried about frostbite on his shoulder. 

They hurried up the ramp and into the Quinjet. It had already cooled down from the temperature outside. Although, it hadn't exactly been toasty when they flew, it kept them warm enough. Steve and Bucky loaded their packs of supplies and bags of food onto themselves like pack mules. They double and triple checked that they had everything they needed because neither of them wanted to come back out.

Bucky and Steve hurried back inside of the small cabin. They set their supplies down by the door, then scrambled to huddle in front of the fireplace. Steve went to work making a fire. He checked that the chimney was open and that the fire would stay contained. Then, using his lighter and some bark, Steve managed to coax a healthy fire to life. Bucky handed him a couple of logs from the wood pile until the fire was big enough to last them a few hours. Steve closed the grill and sat back with his shaking palms held towards the blaze. 

"Y-Y-You ok-kay, St-St-St-Stev-v-vie?" Bucky asked, his whole body shuddering. 

"Y-Yeah. J-J-Just ch-chilly. Wh-Wh-Wh-What ab-bout y-y-you?" Steve checked. He noticed Bucky was shaking worse than he was. The Captain reached behind him to grab a blanket from the couch to wrap around him. 

Bucky shakily pulled the blanket tighter around himself as he muttered "*ffff*fine." Steve looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Bucky looked away and sheepishly admitted, "c-c-cold-d. *hetKSHCH!*"

"B-Bless y-you B-B-Bun," Steve cooed. He sniffled, then sneezed. "*ht'GSHH! ht'KSHHT! eihh-t'sheww!*" 

"B-B-Bless y-yourssself, bab-byd-d-doll," Bucky grabbed another blanket off of the couch to drape over Steve’s lap. Then, Bucky wrapped his blanket around his shoulders, too. Steve smiled and kissed his cheek while covering Bucky's lap with the second blanket. They snuggled together under the covers trying to warm each other up. Bucky sighed contentedly as the chill in his bones slowly started to melt. 

Steve's shivering finally stopped, but Bucky's hadn't. He nuzzled his face into Steve's neck. The blond giggled and rested his head on Bucky's hair. Steve dotted kisses along Bucky's forehead. "You're so cold, baby," he worried. 

"W-Well, it's f-f-f-freezing he-here," Bucky stated. 

"Want me to heat up some soup for you? Or I could make you some tea? I've got the teabags in my pack," Steve offered. 

"N-N-Nah, s-s-s-save 'e-em f-f-f-for d-d-dinner," Bucky shakily brought his hands up to his mouth and blew into them. 

Steve cupped Bucky's hands to blow hot breath over them. He took care to massage both of Bucky's hands and spent extra time on his metal one. 

"Your hand is like ice, Bun," Steve worried. That was when he realized "Is your whole arm this cold?!" He didn't bother to wait for a reply. He started to run his hand over Bucky's arm. The chill seeped through the layers of winter clothes and Steve's gloves. 

"Honey…," Steve murmured. "Why didn't you say something? No wonder you're so chilly." He rubbed his hands up and down Bucky's arm to help him warm up.

"D-Didn't w-w-want ya t-to w-w-w-worry," Bucky admitted with a shudder.

"I could've brought something to help you if I knew," Steve argued.

"N-N-Nothing he-helps," Bucky sighed. 

Steve was quiet for a moment. Then, he had an idea. He scooted out from under the blankets and went to sit on Bucky's left side. 

"Wh-Wh-What're y-you-," Bucky began.

"Moving to your other side so my body heat can help your arm get warm. How's that? Comfy?" Steve checked, settling down next to his boyfriend. Bucky adjusted the blankets so they were both covered once more. Bucky melted against Steve's warm, warm chest with his head in the crook of his neck and his arm sandwiched between them. Already Steve's body heat was helping. 

"You're s-so warm," Bucky sighed, pressing a kiss to Steve's neck. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky so he could help massage the last of the shivers out. 

Bucky was about to drift off when Steve sneezed. "*hihshchmmph! Uh'ptCHmmff! Huh-huh… uh'ISHfff! HihiTSHSHXX! Ittchshsh!*"

That made Bucky pull his head off of Steve's shoulder. Steve was sniffling and wiping his nose on the back of his hand. His nose and cheeks were pink and he just looked so worn out. 

"S-Sorry, Buck, I… I… *ih-hih-ihhTSHSH! Huhtshughh! Eihh-t'SHeww!*" Steve sniffled. 

"Aww, bless you sweetheart!" Bucky exclaimed. He took his gloves off of his human hand and placed it on Steve's forehead. "You feel warm, honey. You alright?" 

"Ye-Yeah. *snffSNFFsnff… hetKSHCH!*" 

Bucky moved to get up, but Steve pulled him back. "Y'just got warmb, Bun," he protested.

"You're not gonna stop sneezing 'til you blow your nose. And it's a little hard to sleep on a sneezing pillow," Bucky smiled. He kissed the blond as he sat up.

"Is that dhe only readson you lobe me? *huhpphTSHSH!* I make a good piddow," Steve teased with a little pout on his lips. 

"Nah, pillows aren't this difficult," Bucky retorted. He returned back to Steve with a whole box of kleenex in hand. 

"You're lucky I'mb freezing or I wouldn't led you back id," Steve returned. He took the topmost tissue, folded it over, then blew a few times. 

"Better?" Bucky asked. Steve nodded. 

"You brought a whole box with you? Did you know I'd get sick or somethin'?" Steve asked.

"I know how sniffly you get when you're cold," Bucky answered. "And I actually brought two boxes." 

"I love you," Steve sighed, blowing into another tissue. 

Bucky smirked. "Is that the only reason you love me? I bring you tissues?"

"Shut up!" Steve laughed. Bucky started laughing too at how Steve's cheeks flushed. It devolved into a coughing fit that almost made Bucky double over.

"You gettin' sick, Bun?" Steve worried.

"I think it's just allergies. Unless you gave me your cold?" Bucky answered. 

"I'm not sick!" Steve argued. 

"You are sick, honey," Bucky insisted. 

"So are you…," Steve muttered, sheepishly burrowing into their blanket burrito. 

"Soon as we get back home tomorrow, we're takin' a long, hot bubble bath. Might even have someone bring the hot tub inside so we can use that," Bucky mused. Then, he thought "we can't put bubbles in the hot tub, though…" 

"We can do whatever the Hell we want," Steve declared. Bucky snorted out a laugh. "We're sick, and we're cold, and we're stuck here for the night. We earned that bubble hot tub."

"Now that's why I love you," Bucky grinned, kissing Steve's nose.

****

Steve curled into himself with a shiver. He reached for the blankets to pull them up, only to find air. Steve opened his eyes and sat up. He chuckled when he saw Bucky had rolled over with the blankets cocooning him. Steve shivered again and rubbed his arms. He didn't want to wake Bucky, but if he didn't, his chattering teeth would.

"B-B-Bun…," Steve whispered. He lightly nudged Bucky's shoulder, but got no response. He nudged him again. "Y-Y-You're ho-hog-g-gging all-all th-th-the bbbblank-kets."

Bucky shifted in his sleep, but didn't wake up.

"P-P-P-Please, B-Bun. I'm s-s-s-so c-cold," Steve chattered. 

Bucky still didn't respond. So, Steve slipped off of the bed, shivering when he felt the freezing hardwood floor through his socks. He shuffled around to the other side of the bed and crawled under the covers with Bucky. It was a tight fit, but worth it for the warmth. Steve sighed as the heat enveloped him. 

Finally, Bucky stirred. "Ngh… Stevie? What're you doin'?" He wriggled over towards where Steve had been sleeping to give him more space. Steve pressed himself as close to Bucky as he could to keep absorbing his warmth. Bucky wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and felt how harshly he was shuddering. 

"Oh, honey!" Bucky gasped when he realized the blankets had been mostly on his side. "I'm so sorry. Are you alright? You want me to turn on the fireplace?"

"D-d-d-don't mo-move. Y-Y-You're l-l-l-like a-a f-f-f-f-f-furn-nace," Steve shivered. He tucked his hands under Bucky's shirt to warm them up and shoved his feet between Bucky's legs. For once, Bucky didn't complain about how cold his appendages felt. He began rubbing his hands over Steve's side and back. Bucky felt how much Steve's muscles were spasming, and he felt the bed quivering as well.

"My poor babydoll. You're shakin' like a leaf," Bucky worried, tucking Steve's head under his chin. He brought one hand up to tousle Steve's fluffy blond hair and kept his vibranium arm over him. 

"W-W-Well, i-it's fuh-fuh-fuh-fuh-fuhfreez-z-zing he-here," Steve teased, hoping to make Bucky feel better. 

"I know, honey," Bucky cooed, dotting Steve's face with soft kisses. 

Steve wanted to do more to reassure him, but felt himself slipping back to sleep. The lingering smell of Bucky's cologne and his gentle touch always lulled Steve to sleep and the coziness of their little blanket cocoon made it ten times as strong. His shivering was calmed and his teeth clattered softly enough for him to speak.

"Love you, Bun." 

"I love you, too, babydoll," Bucky smiled, giving Steve one last forehead kiss before they both fell asleep. 

****

Bucky briefly woke up around sunrise. He didn't need to look out the window to know the snowstorm was still going strong. He could hear the howling winds. It was obvious they wouldn't be leaving today, so Bucky let himself relax. He glanced down to see his boyfriend still fast asleep and most importantly, toasty warm. 

Steve was in the same position he fell asleep, but this time he was leaning more on Bucky. Bucky tucked the covers up and over the back of Steve's head so only his face and top of his head were exposed to the chilly morning air. It was so cold in the cabin that Bucky could see their breath fogging in front of them. Steve's nose and cheeks were a little rosy from the cold, but there was no sign of frostbite. 

The chilly cabin air made Bucky want to hold Steve tighter. If he hadn't woken up last night, the love of his life might've frozen to death beside him. Bucky couldn't stand that thought. He was going to make sure his Stevie stayed nice and toasty all day, and for the rest of this damn impromptu vacation. 

Ahh, thank you SO MUCH! Hope you’ll enjoy this short little ficlet of Steve and Bucky cuddling on the couch :))

***

Steve is sat between Bucky’s legs on the couch, eyes shut, and his head and back resting against his boyfriend’s chest in a position that’s way too comfortable for any of them to move. Bucky has his arms wrapped tightly around Steve’s waist while he nuzzles his face into the soft, golden hair, and Steve lets out a tired yet contented sigh.

“This is really nice,” Steve says. He’s smiling as he glances up at Bucky, and he really does look happy, Bucky thinks. His eyes are a little watery though, and his cheeks and the tip of his nose are a bit more pink than usual. His voice has that congested catch to it, too, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Thank you, Buck.”

Bucky tightens his hold around Steve a little more, and he places a soft kiss to Steve’s hairline where the blonde hairs meet his pale skin. “Why are you thanking me?” Bucky murmurs with a quiet chuckle.

“It’s just been a really long week. I like coming home to this. You.”

Bucky can’t help but smile giddily, aware that he probably looks like a right fool, but no one can see it, and no one can feel the way Bucky’s heart flutters.

“I’m glad you’re home, baby. I missed you so much, you have no idea,” Bucky says and runs a hand through Steve’s hair. “That mission sounded rough, though. You must feel exhausted.”

Steve sighs, then nods. “Yeah, I g-guess, snf! I think I’m j-just tired a-ahnd…” he trails off and leans forward to sit up, and Bucky releases his grip around Steve’s waist and rests a hand on his back as his breath hitches instead. His shoulders move with every breath, and Bucky waits patiently until he can hear a desperate gasp and Steve’s body jerks forward.

“huh’TUSCHoo! ehh-USH! heh… snf! huh’ESCH! Oh…”

Steve catches the triple of sneezes in the crook of his elbow against the oversized sweatshirt he changed into as soon as he got home. Bucky winces at the sound of the sneezes, how they sound like they scrape at the back of his throat and causes Steve to cough a few times, back still hunched over and turned away from Bucky.

“Bless you,” Bucky says and strokes Steve’s back gently the blonde rubs at his nose with his knuckles. “Tired and sick.”

Steve only hums and sniffles in reply, but his shoulders relax slightly when Bucky’s hand moves from his back to the nape of his neck and his finger start playing with the soft hair there. He doesn’t lay back down immediately, though, and not when Bucky tugs at his sweatshirt, urging him to cuddle in close again either.

Bucky frowns, then squeezes Steve’s shoulder to get him to look at him. He gains eye contact and quirks his head, silently asking him to lay back down. Steve shakes his head though, and his eyes glaze over synchronously with the way his nose gives a tell-tale twitch.

Bucky’s frown eases, understanding, and he offers a sympathetic smile instead. Steve doesn’t seem to catch that, because his eyes flutter shut and he ducks his head away with a couple of soft sneezes.

“heeiSHH’iiww! Tsh!”

“God bless,” Bucky murmurs in a low, fond voice. “Okay?”

Steve nods, apologizes quietly, and hesitantly leans back against Bucky as if he thinks Bucky would mind being this close to him when he’s sick.

“Don’t apologize, darling. Let me fuss over you a little, yeah?”

Steve seems reluctant at first, but then Bucky offers to make him soup and tea and that they can have a bath together later, before snuggling up in bed with a movie, and Steve really can’t deny how badly he wants that. He agrees to let Bucky take care of him on the one condition that they’ll cuddle on the couch for another five minutes before Bucky gets started on the soup, and Bucky could never refuse such a request.

“Thank you, Buck. I really don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.” Steve’s eyes have slipped shut again, and he’s on the verge of dozing off when he turns in Bucky’s grip and nuzzles his face into Bucky’s chest.

“You don’t need to do anything, sweetheart. I just love you, ’s all. I hope you know that.”

Steve hums, and Bucky can feel it as Steve smiles into his t-shirt.

“I know. You always makes me feel so loved… cherished,” Steve mumbles. “I love you, too, by the way.”

This prompt is so cute! Hope you’ll enjoy this short ficlet of Steve with a small cold and Bucky being the sweetest boyfriend <3

***

“You alright?”

Bucky frowns when Steve’s body gives an almost imperceptible shiver. Most people would miss it, but most people aren’t Bucky, who is always incredibly attentive when it comes to Steve— sometimes to the point of absurdity, which Steve usually pretends to mind but really doesn’t.

“I’m fine,” Steve says with a small smile. It would almost be believable, almost, had Steve not ended the sentence with a sniffle and yet another shiver.

“Jesus, Stevie, you’re shaking,” Bucky points out and places a comforting hand on small of Steve’s back. “Are you cold- of course you’re cold! Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”

The two of them had decided to go for an evening walk, get some fresh air after a long day of meetings with the team. It’s the middle of April and the weather is lovely, though, it is still quite chilly, the air cool and brisk.

Steve shrugs. “‘Snff! Didn’t think it’d be necesarry. SnffSNF! It’s no big deal, Buck.”

With an eyeroll, Bucky begins fumbling with his jacket, takes it off and puts it around Steve’s shoulders.

“Bucky, you don’t- snf! Now, you’re the one without a jacket, dumbass.” Steve argues, though, he’s grateful for the warmth and comfort that comes with wearing his boyfriend’s clothing. It smells like him— the fruity shampoo he uses mixed with the cologne Steve got him for Christmas.

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who’s currently fighting off a cold,” Bucky smirks, causing Steve to blush shyly. He didn’t think anyone had noticed the small sniffles and sneezes that had been scattered throughout the day, but apperently, Bucky has. Attentive, Steve reminds himself.

“I’m okay,” Steve tries, but, somehow, the World seems to always want to prove Steve wrong as a sneeze suddenly creeps up on him.

“hurrESHH’oo!”

Steve quickly turns away from Bucky, aiming the sneeze in the crook of his elbow, then looks up with bleary eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Bucky just chuckles and lays an around Steve’s broad frame, pulling him into a hug from the side, resting their heads against each other’s as they continue wandering around the city.

The sky is ablaze with the colours of the setting sun; a perfect mixture of pink and orange, a sight that never ceases to calm them. The golden rays bath the buildings in a warm light, the skyscrapers creating long shadows on the ground. If they look closely, they can see the small specks of dust swirling in the shaft of the sunlight.

They stop for a minute, taking in the view as the sun lowers. They stand in silence for a while until Steve’s nose twitches.

“Huh-heIISHhoo!”

“Bless you, Stevie. Maybe we should head home?” Bucky murmurs and nuzzles his face into the crook of Steve’s neck, placing soft pecks along his jawline, and Steve can’t help but melt at the nickname and sweet, affectionate kisses.

“Hm, maybe... snf!! You’re probably cold now, anyways, since I stole your jacket.”

“I’ll be okay as long as you promise to cuddle with me when we get home.” Bucky says and places another gentle kiss on Steve’s cheek.

“You sap,” Steve grins. “But yeah, I’ll cuddle with you, octopus.”

They both chuckle.

“I can’t help it. I like holding you close,” Bucky defends.

Steve smiles with a deep sigh. “This is so nice, though. Can we stay for a couple more minutes?” he asks pleadingly and no one, especially not Bucky, can say no to those puppy-dog eyes.

“Of course.”

As they stare off into the horizon, the noise of the bustling city seems to fade. At last, the only thing they hear is the sound of their breathing harmonizing.

“It’s beautiful.” Steve says. His voice is low and full of emotion, almost as a whisper.

Bucky turns his head to look at Steve. His hair is messy from being ruffled by the wind, his cheeks are flushed pink, matching the tip of his red-tinted nose. Standing there, in Bucky’s worn-out jacket, face lit up by gold beams, Steve looks so young, and innocent, and goddamn perfect. Bucky wonders if he’ll ever stop feeling this kind of adoration towards Steve, but he already knows he won’t.

“It is.” Bucky agrees, his lips curling into a wry smile. Steve might be talking about the sunset, but Bucky sure isn’t.

“Breathtaking.”

this prompt is from january and this reply is Very Smol but I hope you enjoy anyway <3

“You sound terrible,” Crowley says when he picks up the phone.

“I’ve hardly even said anything yet, dear,” Aziraphale points out. He clears his throat once, then twice, then sniffles into what Crowley knows will be his favorite tartan handkerchief, because…

“That’s your sick voice, Angel.” 

“I don’t have a sick voice, I assure you. And I’m not s-ihh-oh, pardon me… eh’Iieshhiew!”

Crowley tuts. “You were saying?” He can picture his angel now, dabbing at his nose and rolling his eyes while he comes up with a retort. He coughs into the phone and Crowley’s desire to be right all but evaporates. 

“Mm, scratch that, I’ll be right over,” Crowley says.

“N-you don’t–”

****

Aziraphale has a handkerchief cupped over his mouth and nose when Crowley strolls into the bookshop, his chest rising and falling beneath his vest as his breath snags over and over again. 

“Looks uncomfortable,” Crowley says, surprising him enough that Aziraphale gasps a final time, then shudders into the handkerchief, a tired-sounding huH’Ushhooo! That seems to shiver right through him. 

“Goodness, Crowley, you scared me!” Aziraphale says with a sniffle. 

“Sorry, angel,” Crowley says, crossing the room in a few short strides. He wraps an arm around Aziraphale, pulling him in close and looking him over. “Hmm, you definitely look ill,” he says. “Nose’s all pink, you’re pale even for you. Plus you’re all shivery.” 

Crowley has to stop himself from picking him up and depositing him into a pile of blankets. 

The angel sniffles again, shaking his head. “I’m fine, really – just chilled and achy, I think.” 

“So…ill,” Crowley confirms. He snaps his fingers and a fire roars to life in the fireplace, and the blanket that was thrown over the back of the couch is suddenly hovering within his angel’s reach. 

“If I admit you might be right will you stop your fussing?” Aziraphale takes the blanket and settles himself on the couch, looking up at Crowley with tired, teary eyes. 

“No promises, but I’ll be quieter about it, and I’ll make you that fancy tea you like. Deal?” 

this is sooo cute for them, pls <3 i hope you enjoy some human au ineffable wives girlfriends 🥺

going to cheat and use this for the 'sniffles' square on my good omens bingo, too

****

Aziraphale had only just slid into the booth at their table by the window when she’s pretty sure she hears her name called. She squints, as though it might somehow help with how blocked up even her ears feel thanks to this cold, and turns to her right only to find Crowley already getting up. 

“Think that’s yours, angel. No, you stay, I’ve got you,” Crowley says, giving her arm a soft squeeze before heading to the front to grab the tea and sandwich Aziraphale had ordered. 

Across from her, Maggie and Nina exchange small, knowing smiles.

“Who’d have thought Crowley would turn out to be such a softie,” Nina says. “All those black outfits and all her I’m so dark and deep brooding looks… you really bring something sweet out in her!” 

wahhh this is sooooo cute for them pls 🥺🩵🩵🩵🩵

****

“Hell itself would be better than this,” Crowley groans from where he’s sprawled across the sofa in the bookshop.

He's on day three of this winter cold, and all of his symptoms seem to have caught up with him at once. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon drooping about the shop, picking things up and putting them down, complaining about his sore throat, sneezing in little fits of twos and threes, and doing more or less anything he could to get Aziraphale’s attention. 

“Now, I’m sure that’s not true,” Aziraphale tuts, putting his book aside and making his way over to him. “Are you even comfortable like that, my dear? We really can go upstairs. I’d go with you,” he promises, nudging the pouty demon. He coaxes Crowley up and off of the sofa before he can really even register what’s happening. Crowley settles against Aziraphale easily, though, blanket-warm and pliant even as he rolls his eyes. 

“You’ll stay? You hate sleeping, angel,” Crowley reminds him. He sounds needier than he usually allows himself and Aziraphale hugs him just that much closer. 

“I don’t hate it, I just don’t need it. Besides, I won’t be sleeping, dear boy, you will. I’ve just been reading, which I can do just as easily in bed.” Curling up in bed with Crowley, tucked beneath the lovely soft sheets and piles of blankets he’s collected for them — well, for Crowley, really — sounds just about as close to heaven as they can get down here on Earth. 

“Mnh, fine,” Crowley agrees, like he’s doing Aziraphale an enormous favor, then gives himself away by turning and nuzzling a tired, sniffly kiss against his neck. 

Aziraphale doesn’t bother trying to suppress the smile this elicits. It’s rare that Crowley lets himself be quite so vulnerable, and it’s never lost on the angel that he’s the only one who gets to see him this way. He presses a kiss to his forehead before they make their way upstairs – he’s not fever warm, not yet – but he makes a mental note to keep checking on it; Crowley’s colds almost always come with a low-grade fever that leaves him achy and miserable. 

For someone who didn’t want to move, Crowley wastes no time crawling into bed and slithering under the covers as soon as they get upstairs, miracling himself into black, silky soft pajamas as he goes.

“Y’can change too, angel,” he says, tugging at the buttons of Aziraphale’s vest. “Ngk…h-hold that th-hih! thought… Hh’iiitshh! Huh’Uptshh!” Crowley turns away to sneeze, blinks a few times, then sneezes a third and final time, a harsher, wetter hh’IieeSHOO! that shivers right through him. 

Aziraphale gives a soft, sympathetic sound, then tucks a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth in lieu of a blessing. 

“Warm enough, darling?” Aziraphale asks, taking Crowley’s suggestion and changing into soft, plaid flannel pajamas before sliding into bed beside him. 

“Mmh…am now,” Crowley says, winding himself around Aziraphale until they’re little more than a tangle of limbs, Crowley clinging onto him with no sign of letting go, snuggling into his chest and sniffling until he’s comfortable enough to relax. He’s pale, save for the pink tinge around his nostrils, and his eyes are drooping like he’s fighting to keep them open. 

“Very good,” Aziraphale smiles.

“What’re you reading?” Crowley asks through a yawn. 

Aziraphale’s face flushes. He’s read this one at least a dozen times, but he’s quite sure he’ll never get tired of it. 

“Pride and Prejudice,” he admits, sneaking a glance at Crowley, who is already giving him a knowing look.  

“Sap,” Crowley says through a yawn. 

“Oh, you like this one,” Aziraphale says indignantly. And he does, though he’ll never admit it. 

Crowley shrugs against him, then muffles a cough against his shoulder. “S’okay,” he says. “Darcy’s a bit of a prick, is all. …Y’can read it out loud if you like…” 

“Because you like it, you mean,” Aziraphale teases.

Crowley doesn't say anything, but Aziraphale can feel him melting into sleep as he starts to read, the familiar story a comfort to them both. 

some soft, soggy angel for you <3

****

"Angel, you're soaked," Crowley frowns as Aziraphale comes hurrying back into the bookshop, hair and coat dripping with rain. He's carrying two to-go cups with him, courtesy of the cafe across the street, and he's shivering enough that they're trembling somewhat ominously in his grip.

Aziraphale lifts his eyebrows in surprise, as though he hadn't even noticed. Probably hadn't, actually, too excited about whatever new treat he'd clearly just discovered.

"Just a little," Aziraphale tells him. "Look! Peppermint! That's for me. Black coffee for you. I'd have gotten you something more festive but I know—"

Crowley reaches out and takes both cups from the angel just in time for a sneeze to shiver through him, quick and damp and followed by a handful of sniffles.

"hh'Eishh'oo! Oh, excuse me, snf!"

"You were already under the weather, angel, you should've told me you wanted something—" Crowley starts.

"Oh, don't, it's quite alright my dear, it's just a chill. Even humans don't actually get sick from the rain, you know that's just an old myth."

Crowley's frown intensifies for a moment, but then he exhales, relaxing. There's really no point in arguing; Aziraphale's back now and what's done is done.

"Well, at least let me help you out of those wet things," Crowley offers. "M'sure you don't want to drag wet leaves through your shop," he adds, gesturing to his shoes when he can see Aziraphale gearing up to tell him it's not necessary.

Crowley sets the cups down on the small wooden table beside Aziraphale's overstuffed armchair, then turns back to where Aziraphale is rubbing at his nose. He's still shivering, and the desire to miracle him right back to health is almost overwhelming. It doesn't work like that, though. Unfortunately even angels have to recover the old fashioned way.

"Here," Crowley says, reaching gently around and helping Aziraphale out of his wet coat. His shirt is a little damp, too, and he runs his arms down the length of the angel's arms and chest, warming him through with his touch.

"Oh! Well, that is very nice," Aziraphale admits, cheeks turning pink from warmth or affection or both, and something inside Crowley goes warm, too, at being able to help him like this.

Aziraphale sits on his chair and lets Crowley help him take his shoes off, adding another little flourish of warmth through his socks for good measure. He might not be able to make him feel better, but he can make whatever fall cold Aziraphale has more bearable, anyway.

"h'Ushh'iew!"

Crowley drops a kiss to his nose in place of a bless you, which earns him a fond little smile. "You know, I think I am a little cold, now that I think about it." Aziraphale says, smiling pointedly up at Crowley.

"Mm?"

"Perhaps you should..." Aziraphale gives him another little look and Crowley rolls his eyes, but does what he knows Aziraphale wants and curls himself up just so on his lap.

"You know you can use your words, Angel, you certainly know more than enough of them," he teases, nuzzling into Aziraphale's hair. "Warm enough now?"

"Yes, well. This worked out as intended, I think," Aziraphale says with a congested little sigh. "Here, now, at least try this, it's delightful..."

Crowley accepts the coffee cup, taking a small, quick sip. He's not sure if angels and demons can share germs, but he figures they're well past that now, anyway.

"I'll let you enjoy that," Crowley says, making a face. "I'm good for now."

this is literally not five sentences but it also didn't take me a year so <3

****

Despite knowing that he could be anywhere in the world — in the universe — Crowley will always choose the bookshop. He doesn't let himself think about it often, the "H word," but when he does indulge himself, usually when he's feeling particularly terrible, he'll call it what it is: Home.

It's where he always ends up when he's ill like this, damp with feverish sweat and weary with bone-deep exhaustion, his nose running like a tap. Even he couldn't have invented such a damnable thing as this, the so-called common cold.